


kinetic energy equals half mass times velocity squared

by DevilishKurumi



Series: finite simple group [3]
Category: Regular Show
Genre: Humanized, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the energy of a mood can all be related to how fast you’re willing to go.</p>
<p>Two stoned slackers make out under some trees and eat watermelon.  Not in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kinetic energy equals half mass times velocity squared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kettugasm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kettugasm/gifts).



            They're eating watermelon beneath the heavy foliage of a tree in full summer bloom.  Mordecai is feeling pleasantly buzzed, and from the expression on Rigby's face, he's feeling the same way.

            The watermelon's still a surprise to Mordecai, but apparently there's wild fruit growing all over the park; people plant watermelon, strawberries, even tomatoes, usually with their kids, and they never expect it to grow.  But they do, and they grow full and wild.  The watermelon the two of them had picked out had been the largest, and now with the sun beginning to really show signs of setting and them off the clock, they're able to fully enjoy their spoils.

            Mordecai eats as carefully as he can, his work uniform too precious to just drip all over.  Rigby, meanwhile, has taken off his shirt, haphazardly tossing it onto the tall bushes hiding them from the pathway some twenty yards away.  He doesn't seem to care about his pants too much.

            "Dude, you're getting it everywhere."

            "Who cares?"  Rigby gives Mordecai a skeptical look and chomps down on his thick slice, and even without being inside Rigby's head he can see how the flavor is seeping down through his entire body.

            He thinks about how poetic that might be, if he weren't so damned high, and how he could probably write a whole sonnet about watermelon if he had something to write on, and then Rigby is licking his lips.  Mordecai's thoughts are suddenly derailed, and he leans against the tree, watching him.  There's something intense about how red Rigby's tongue is, and how he smells like grass and sweat and oh, words are coming out of his mouth now.

            "Wanna make out?"

            It's a surprise, because either of them could count the number of times Mordecai's said that on one hand, but Rigby seems too far gone to realize that at the moment.  He grins lazily and blearily closes his eyes, leaning forward to kiss the pale skin of Mordecai's jawline.  That's kind of poetic too.  Mordecai tries to say something aloud to prove it to himself, but all that comes out is a little breath of air.  Rigby makes a nice noise in return and searches out his lips, kissing them with his own watermelon lips and no precision whatsoever.

            Mordecai thinks about the last time they'd made out, and then the time before that, while they had been lying around listening to shitty indie music that just put him in a bad mood.  And Rigby had been thinking who knew what before he'd asked:

            "Can I...?"

            He doesn't get the whole question out, but the intent is there, and though he's still wondering why he even opened his mouth in the first place, why he thinks this is a good idea and not just... really beyond the scope of best-friends-who-occasionally-kiss-on-the-mouth, he isn't about to back off.  He owes Rigby, he thinks.  Yeah, definitely why he's got his hand on Rigby's fly.  And why he's shuddering between his shoulderblades.  And why he's thinking _no, no, no, dude, back off, horrible idea, you don't want to do this._

            Rigby finally looks surprised, a little shocked even, and he stammers something about being at the park and, "Maybe this isn't a good idea," and why is _he_ resisting so much after _Mordecai_ hadn't hesitated at all?

            There's a moment where Mordecai thinks that this is the perfect escape from the situation; he can just laugh and kiss Rigby stupid and this will all blow over - but he also has it in his head that he _owes this_.

            He hesitates and says, "You sure?"  Like flipping a coin.  He's already pulling away, and part of him is really thankful for the escape route.

            Rigby shakes his head and fists a hand in Mordecai's hair, pulling him back in for a kiss.  "Nevermind, yeah.  You can."

            Shit.

            "If you want," he adds, and now Mordecai has no choice.

            He tries not to think too much about the strange mixture of emotion inside him, and instead he tries opening Rigby's fly one handed, the other gripping Rigby's shoulder.  He manages it after a minute, and this isn't going to be an issue.  Rigby could do it, after all.

            He gives an experimental lick, running the tip of his tongue along Rigby's length.  The hiss Rigby lets loose goes straight to his gut, and it encourages him to try wrapping his mouth around the head, figuring it out as he goes, trying not to think about how _weird_ this is.  Rigby smells like the park, and not in a really great way, but the watermelon taste in his mouth masks most of the weird taste of Rigby.

            The sounds Rigby's making manage to distract him from most of the weirdness.  Every little hiss and gasp, and the way Rigby starts off his name and ends it in a short, panting " _ah_ " - shit.  Mordecai can hardly stand it.  They're so extremely _Rigby_ , and yet they remind him of late night dreams and those little micronaps during the day, when he imagines kissing Margaret, running his fingers through her hair, pressing his hand along her curves and earning those same little noises from his dream girl.

            Sometimes he even imagined them while making out with Rigby.  He feels kind of shitty about that, but when Rigby groans, " _Uh,_ " he knows that's never going to happen again.  The terrible clarity weed casts over him brings that realization, and he needs to back off and put some space between the sounds replaying in his head and the sounds he fantasizes about before it's too late.  So he replaces his mouth with his hand; Rigby wraps his fingers around either side of Mordecai's head and pulls him in for a long kiss - something a little too intimate.  Mordecai can see the distance get so wobbly between them that it looks like a bridge in an earthquake.

            Luckily, Rigby falls away as he finds his release in Mordecai's hand.  He makes this strange, contented sort of noise, and Mordecai wipes his hand off on Rigby's stomach.

            "Ew, dude!"

            Mordecai grins and lets Rigby punch him, and when he settles in to crack another slice of watermelon, his thoughts let out a deep breath.

            "Watermelon is super tasty," he says, and Rigby cracks up so hard for no reason that it doesn't really matter how unpoetic Mordecai has been in the end.  It's all good.

            Really.


End file.
